1,000 miles on motorcycle in a day? No problem for 89-year-old Michigan man

Katie Greene | The Grand Rapids PressWard Blanchard, 89, lives north of Grand Rapids and is the oldest man to motor 1,000 miles in 24 hours.

Just my opinion, but, frankly, I think it’s interesting all by itself that this summer, Ward Blanchard rode his motorcycle more than 1,000 miles without sleep, grinding out the distance in less than 24 hours.

Not that you could tell. He’s got the facial features of a guy in his 60s. And he could be a hand model for dish detergent.

Not that he’s got the time or inclination. He’s too busy busting his butt on a three-wheeled cycle known as a Can-Am Roadster, setting records for long-distance motorcycling while some of his cronies are probably having trouble — let’s face it — gathering up enough steam for a spirited game of cribbage.

“Don’t let your age tell you what you can do,” says Ward, who worked full-time until he was 87, mostly as a factory laborer and window washer. “Just forget about your age and do it.”

Ward was born “between Arcadia and Bear Lake” in Manistee County. The year was 1922. He and his three older sisters teamed up to tend to a modest family farm while Dad worked in logging camps.

When Ward was 7, the family moved north to Benzie County, where his dad was responsible for driving a team of horses for the president of a bank in Frankfort. The family lived three miles outside of town, and Ward remembers walking or riding a bicycle to and from school.

After graduating Frankfort High, Ward worked the farm for a year or two, then moved to the Detroit area for his first factory job. It lasted less than two years and, in 1941, he joined the Merchant Marines, traveling the globe to supply troop ships during World War II.

He retired from the service in 1946, married Dorothy, and worked more factory jobs. Cancer took Dorothy in the 1950s.

“She never had the chance to have a good life,” Ward says.

He remarried, but Lola died of cancer, too, in 2004. Ward also has outlived three sisters and a daughter. Only a son survives.

The idea of marrying a third time never appealed to him.

“Too much cancer,” he says, shaking his head.

I found Ward living in a humble mobile home just north of Grand Rapids. He has been there since 1968.

Most days, he drives a truck. But his real joy is that sleek, black Can-Am, which is tricked out to the tune of nearly $30,000. It features everything you need for overnight travel, including plenty of cargo space.

We sat on two chairs sans cushions out on a makeshift deck, where he talked about traveling 1,000 miles at a time by motorcycle like someone else might discuss driving to the mall and back.

If you’re suspicious about whether Ward, because of his age, might be adding zeros to his rides that don’t belong there, know this: Every one of his marathon excursions has been certified by something called the Iron Butt Association, which I hope needs no explanation, except to say it’s a cadre of crazies who get off on rides of 1,000 to 11,000 miles.

The most notable way to earn membership in the IBA is by completing a set distance within a set time. In Ward’s case, he has knocked out a handful of long runs, the most demanding being 1,500 miles in less than 36 hours.

He’s not only the oldest member of the IBA, he holds the association’s record as the oldest guy ever to complete the Iron Butt’s Saddle Sore 1,000 miles in less than 24 hours. He actually rode 1,008.

Lest you wonder whether IBA members are speed demons bent on hellish road behavior, the website (ironbutt.com) emphasizes otherwise. The site’s most-read page encourages safety first, with strict orders to pull over at the first sign of fatigue.

Ward says he has never felt the need to sleep during one of his 24-hour forays with the road.

As for inclement weather, “I never let a storm bother me,” says Ward, who keeps a high-tech rain suit at the ready.

“He’s a great guy, and everybody just loves him,” says fellow IBA member Jim VanDenBerghe, of Newaygo, who’s in awe of Ward’s ability to ride on little rest.

“When we did the Yooper Madness Saddle Sore 1,000 ride in July,” says VanDenBerghe, “I told Ward I was planning on stopping in Iron Mountain and take a snooze for an hour.”

Top speed: “I’ve gone 95, but only for a short time. I’m not a hot-rodder, but I keep up.”

Mishaps? Only one. In 2005, while cycling home from Traverse City, a deer broadsided him just after dawn. He never saw it coming, and woke up hospitalized with six cracked ribs and a broken collarbone. He recovered so fast his doc told him “You’re healing up like a young kid.”

Longest duration aboard a bike: Several years ago, Ward completed 1,500 miles in less than 36 hours, finishing on a Saturday afternoon. That same day, he lit out for a nonstop run of 500 miles.

Typical run: Gas up every 150 miles or so. One long stop for breakfast, shorter breaks as needed.

Prettiest place he’s seen in his travels around the U.S.: Kalispell, Montana, gateway to the Canadian Rockies.